


All I Want for Christmas

by always_writer_m



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Linstead, One Chicago (Chicago Franchise)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_writer_m/pseuds/always_writer_m
Summary: Baby, all I want for Christmas is for you and me to fix this / Linstead post 4x17
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Erin Lindsay
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

If we can make it through December  
maybe we’ll make it through forever.  
‘Cause all I want for Christmas  
is you and me to fix this.   
If we can make it through December  
every New Year we’ll have together.  
Baby, all I want for Christmas   
is you and me to fix this.

~

One.

Erin looked defeated—not sad, heartbroken, angry, or upset—just completely and utterly defeated. And it was all his fault. 

He was the one who got blackout drunk. He was the one who married a girl he was only kind of friends with. He was the one who didn’t stick around long enough to make sure she signed the divorce papers. He was the one who couldn’t get a hold of whatever underlying PTSD issues he apparently hadn’t shoved down far enough. And he was the one who kept all of this from her. 

So badly he wanted her to see that he was doing this for her own good, that she was safer and better off with him crashing with his brother for an indefinite period of time. Who he was, who he still had the potential of becoming, was not someone he was proud of and she had already dealt with her fair share of shitty men who weren’t right for her. He just wished that she understood he was doing this for her, he was finally working on bettering himself for her.

Then maybe she wouldn’t look so defeated by the world. 

At first, he was the only one who noticed the change in her demeanor. But that was because he knew her better than anyone, even Voight (that was her observation, not his own.) Albeit very slowly, the rest of the unit caught on until everyone noticed how she rarely ever smiled and, if she did, it was only a slight quirk of her lips and not the full-on blinding beam they all immediately fell in love with. They noticed how she seldom left her desk unless she was instructed to, her frequent trips for a cup of coffee decreased to maybe once a day, no more than twice. They noticed how she was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. But, most importantly, they noticed how she no longer stopped by Molly’s for after work drinks to decompress following the ridiculously tasking cases they had recently been slammed with. Without even trying, she was always the life of the party at the beloved bar and her presence was sorely missed by all.

Watching her furiously type up a report on her computer, tongue sticking out the corner of her pursed lips, shoulders rounded into a stiff hunch, and eyes unwaveringly trained on the words she was typing, he mentally grasped at ideas of how he could fix her, fix them. She was defeated and still taking heavy fire and was in desperate need of backup. He swore he’d always be her backup, but what kind of partner just left his other half to fend for themselves as long as he had?

‘A real fucking shitty one,’ he thought. Like cowards who hide from their fears, he abruptly leapt out from behind his desk and proceeded to seek refuge in the breakroom. It was becoming physically painful for him to look across from his desk and see the emotional damage he had inflicted on the love of his life. 

She was still the love of his life. That fact had not changed, will never change. He may have told her just under two years ago that she, Erin Lindsay, made him, Jay Halstead, a better cop. But, what he should have said was that she made him a better man. She made him be someone his deceased mother could be proud from the grave. She made him live up to and higher the ridiculous standards he always held himself to. She made him not care that he had a past, not care that he once could be classified among the most despicable of men. She made him better in every possible way a person could and then some. He liked to think that he influenced her in the same way. 

‘And yet, you still managed to screw her over,’ he silently berated himself. ‘To protect her!’ a voice in the back of his mind squeaked out in a feeble attempt to defend his rashly decided actions. All he knew that night after he left Abby at the bar was that he was consumed with the feeling of losing all sense of control and that lost control made him dangerous. So, as he repeatedly told himself that he was shielding her from having to experience any more physical and emotional harm, he packed a bag that was meant to only get him through a week max. 

Nearly three and a half weeks later and he still hadn’t returned home to their apartment. 

Jabbing a little too hard at the button on the coffee machine, he watched his fourth cup of the day trickle down into the last remaining clean mug in the breakroom. The OCD soldier in him was vying to take control over his hands and begin washing the mess of cups in the sink, but the rest of him fought back, too worn out to care to do so. 

“Everybody listen up!” He heard his boss’s voice call out. Mechanically walking back to his desk, steaming cup of coffee in his hand, he lowered himself back down into his chair to hear what Voight had to say. “The case is being kicked down to Narcotics. So, once you’re done with your paperwork, go home and enjoy the next two days off with your families.” The older man turned to walk back into his office, acting as if he didn’t just give them the ultimate gift, but stopped after what appeared to be a second’s thought. Somewhere behind him, Ruzek let out a low groan at the sight of the sergeant stopping; the young officer definitely thought Voight was going back on his words. 

“Merry Christmas,” Voight surprised them all by saying before stepping across the threshold to his office and slamming the door shut. 

Christmas. 

Having been in such a haze the past three and a half weeks, he could hardly believe that it was already December 23, that Christmas Day was two sleeps away. To be fair, he hadn’t been in much of a “holiday spirit” lately, not with everything going on in his personal life. 

All around him, his team was stuffing their arms into jackets and jamming hats onto their heads, desperate to get as much out of the next few days off as they could. In just under the blink of an eye, the whole bullpen cleared out until it was just him and Erin, who was still hunched over in deep concentration over her report. 

Ignoring the temptation of watching her work like some kind of creep, he turned his attention towards his own computer and scanned through whatever it was that he had been working on prior to noticing how defeated Erin looked. He was shocked to see that he surprisingly managed to get everything typed up and that all he had left to do was electronically sign his name to officialize the report. 

Doing so hastily, he submitted the document and began bundling up for the small trek out to where his car was parked in the back lot. December in Chicago was even more unforgiving than he was currently on himself. 

“Uh, Merry Christmas Erin.” The wish came out sounding awkward and forced and he was glad she didn’t bother engaging with it. Did he even have the right anymore to talk to her about anything other than work? To wish her well? To bring up the one holiday she was looking forward to celebrating with him more than anything? She had told him that when they were curled up on their living room couch watching Home Alone after their Thanksgiving dinner at Voight’s. 

“You too,” she mumbled, her eyes never leaving her computer. He felt his heart plummet at her insincerity, a feeling he chided himself for the whole way to his car. Did he really think that the mention of the holiday would have her forgetting all her negative feelings towards him? That all would be forgiven with the simple phrase and she’d jump up from her desk, give him a true smile, and enthusiastically wish him the same?

He was lucky she even bothered to say the two words she responded with.

The ride back to Will’s was cold and miserable. Even with the heat blasting on high, it did not kick in soon enough to protect him against the ten degree temperature outside. And he was in no mood to turn on the radio and fill the silence with cheerful Christmas music—he was feeling too goddamn miserable for that. 

Pulling into the visitor’s spot in front of Will’s apartment building, he leaned back in his seat and took a moment to enjoy the irony of the sign leering down at him. Visitor…that was all he was supposed to be. So why did it feel like he had all but moved in? 

Shaking his head, he secured his badge and gun against his waist, exited his car, and stomped up the four flights of stairs to the apartment he had been crashing in since the night he left Erin with nothing more than an “I love you and I want to stay but I can’t.” 

“Jay? That you?” Will’s voice called out once he entered the apartment. “You’re home early,” the elder Halstead proceeded to add before receiving the confirmation that yes, it was him who walked through the door.

“Case got kicked down to narcotics, Voight let us dip once our reports were turned in,” he explained while kicking his boots off and bending down to line them up perfectly along the wall. Their position was the only sort of order amongst Will’s pile of running and work sneakers, loafers, and casual shoes. 

“Well, that’s good yeah?” Following his brother’s voice into the kitchen, he chose to ignore the question and ask one of his own.

“What the hell are you doing?” Pots and pans were scattered all over the kitchen counters, which weren’t that big to begin with, and what looked to be like a powdered substance covered about ninety percent of the hardwood floors.

“Trying to make Mom’s Christmas cookies,” Will explained, furiously mixing together whatever was in the bowl he was holding. “You know, the ones made out of the pistachio pudding and those uh, red things?”

“Cranberries,” he asked incredulously, curious to know how his doctor brother didn’t know what cranberries were called. 

“Yeah! Cranberries!” Will exclaim, clearly pleased at now being able to attach name to the food. “Anyway, someone had the brilliant idea that all the doctors should participate in a cookie swap so, here I am.” Will’s tone of voice sounded like he thought the idea was anything other than brilliant, but he had to commend his brother for actually putting some effort into the task.

“You do know there’s a pretty solid bakery down the street,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, but the second someone mentioned Christmas cookies, I immediately starting craving Mom’s.” Will shrugged. “Took me a while to dig out the recipe, but I think I figured it out.” 

“You went to Dad’s?” he asked apprehensively. A sour taste was always left in his mouth anytime his father was brought up and he didn’t want anything to spoil the inklings of enjoyment he was getting at watching his older brother flounder around the kitchen. 

“Kind of had to, that’s where the recipe was,” Will sarcastically replied. “Dad says hello by the way.”

“No he doesn’t,” he scoffed. Will said nothing in return and turned back to his previous task of stirring up the concoction he put together inside of the mixing bowl. 

Shrugging his jacket off his body and placing it on the chair next to him, he took a seat at the four person kitchen table and contented himself with watching his brother attempt to be a chef. Christmas music was playing softly in the background and he had just about gotten completely lost in the lyrics a female singer was belting out about having a Merry Christmas when Will’s voice snapped him back to the present moment.

“That uh, that package you ordered for uh, well, you know, anyway, it was delivered today.” 

His heart beat immediately sped up because despite his brother’s horrible description, he knew exactly what packaged had been delivered and who exactly it was for. 

Wanting to do something that would make their first Christmas celebrated in their shared home memorable—in a good way—he had scoured the Internet one night looking for the perfect gift. Erin was exceptionally hard to shop for because not only was she a very simple person, she just didn’t care about material things. She had chalked it up to something about being the product of the poor environment she grew up in because, even though the Voight’s took her in and saved her from the desolate poverty she had been living in, they didn’t have a whole ton of money either.

“We never went without,” she explained to him one night. “We just learned to really appreciate what we had.” 

It was not long after that comment that she had gone to bed and he whipped out his personal laptop and began the search for the perfect gift. Clothes were out the question—she very rarely dressed up in anything other than jeans and some type of shirt or sweater—and new boots weren’t the wow factor he was going for. He had just gotten her perfume for her birthday and buying her some sexy new set was more of a gift to him than it was for her. Unable to think of anything else, he decided that jewelry was the only solid option that would check off the most boxes on his list. Plus, Erin wore jewelry…not a whole ton of it, but enough for him to feel confident in his choice. 

He scrolled various jeweler sites for hours until he came across a simple, gold heart locket with a solitaire diamond (conveniently her birthstone) set in the middle from Tiffany’s. Not even caring to look at the price, Jay immediately began filling out the information needed for him to purchase it. As he typed in his credit card information—because no way in hell could he afford to put the necklace on his debit card—all he could think about was how much Erin would love this and his mother. Breakfast at Tiffany’s was Katherine Halstead’s favorite movie and she used to make him watch it with her every year on her birthday. The connection between the necklace and his mom was all he needed to justify the purchase; it’d be a way for him to give a piece of his past, of his mom, to Erin and he knew she’d love that more than anything. 

“Where is it?” he asked hoarsely, unsure if he wanted to see the present he shipped to Will’s place so that Erin wouldn’t find it or not. 

“I stuck it in your room…on the nightstand I think.”

With a nod of his head, he silently excused himself from the kitchen. Walking into the guest room (he refused to refer to it as his room), he softly shut the door behind him and immediately sought out the delivery box the necklace had been delivered in. Will was wrong; the box had not been placed on the nightstand but rather on the bed. 

Lowering himself down onto the quilt covered mattress, he reached out for the box with a shaky hand and tentatively started to tear it open until the brown cardboard was disposed of onto the floor and nothing but the iconic robin egg blue box was left in his hands. 

Suddenly filled with the need to physically see the piece of jewelry he had been so excited to purchase, he gingerly lifted the lid off the box and popped open the case the necklace was sitting in.

Even in the dimly lit room, the small diamond sparkled and the gold glimmered. Small, simple, and delicate, he once again knew without a doubt that he had picked out the perfect present. Lifting the piece of jewelry out from its constraints, he turned it over and read over the small engraving that he added to make sure that the gift was extra special…and non-returnable. 

To Erin

You’re my angel.

Love, Jay

Neither one of them were overly expressive people so he had been quite satisfied with what he had come up with. Short and sweet, the phrase recalled a time where she handed the keys to the GMC Sierra over to him, which in his mind, was the ultimate expression of her love for him. 

Tears pricked at his eyes and the longer he stared at the necklace, the more fervent their threats to fall became. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, they weren’t supposed to end up like this. He should not be sitting in his brother’s guest room, holding back tears, and looking down at the gift wondering if he should even bother to give it to her or not. He should be in their home and coming up with the perfect way to give it to her. 

‘You have to give it to her,’ his mind ordered, making sure to include quick flashes of the price he had just finished off paying. ‘She deserves to get something nice for Christmas.’ 

Sniffling a little, he turned his head away from the now closed box to check the time. 

6:42 the clock read. Late enough that she’d be home but early enough that she would still be awake and in a cognitive state. 

Before he could think anything else on the matter, before he could second guess himself and chastise him for thinking this was an acceptable idea, he bolted from the room and the apartment, the robin egg blue box grasped firmly in his hand. 

The drive to her…their…her apartment was a blur. He must have broken about a dozen rules of the road and most definitely was the reason that a few cars decided to lay on their horns in anger. He didn’t care though, the second he slowed down to actually think about what he was doing, he’d turn around and go straight back to Will’s and drown out the memory of the night’s potential with the bottle of scotch he picked up to give his brother for Christmas the other day. 

His feet acted all on their own as they lead him up to room 314 and so did his hands as they curled into fists and knocked hardly on the cream colored door. He had a key, but he figured Erin would be more receptive to his presence if he didn’t barge in like he still lived there. 

Just as he was about ready to give up knocking and go back to Will’s, the door slowly creaked open and one of Erin’s beautiful hazel eyes appeared through the crack. 

“Jay?” Her voice rasped. “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh, can I come in?” he asked, not wanting to do this in the hallway where he was sure the nosy neighbors would try and watch them. “Please?” 

No words were exchanged as she opened the door wider as a means of accepting his request.

Busying himself with scanning around the place he had called home for just under a year, he missed her hopeful glance towards his hands fall when she realized that, barring the small box, they were empty. 

“What are you doing here Jay?” She repeated, her voice sounding every bit defeated as she looked earlier. It broke his heart.

Sweeping his eyes across the apartment space and seeing that it looked just as it did the night he left, he turned to her with sad eyes. Ignoring her question, he simply stated, “You don’t have a tree.” 

He watched as her eyes flitted over to the spacious area in front of the large windows. That was where they planned to put their tree. 

“Yeah I uh, didn’t see the need to get one I guess,” she shrugged hopelessly. “Plus, we’ve been so busy at work I, I didn’t have the time.” 

“But you love Christmas trees,” he reminded her as he thought back to all the times she used to make him stop to take pictures in front of the ones the city set up downtown. He thought her obsession with the holiday staple was a bit much until she told him that they were the one thing Bunny used to always make sure she and Teddy had each Christmas season.

“No matter how drugged out she was or where we were, she found a way to get us a tree,” she had said. “There were never any presents under it, but I always found the tree to be enough of a present.” 

“Jay, what are you doing here,” she asked for the third time, apparently not enjoying him stating the obvious. “Are you here for the rest of your stuff? Or…” Or are you here to move back home? The words hung over them ominously and rather than addressing them, Jay reached around her and plucked her coat off of the wrack nailed into the wall. 

“Put this on,” he demanded. All the trust in him that had built up over the four years of their partnership had her complying without so much of an utterance as to why he was asking her to do such a thing. “We are getting you a Christmas tree.” He supplied, knowing that he was already treading on thin ice with her tonight.

“Jay, Christmas is literally two days away, I don’t think we are going to find a tree,” she pointed out, an incredulous look on her face. 

“We’re getting you a tree,” he stated firmly. “I will not be the reason you don’t have a tree this Christmas.”

The lacking response confirmed what he had been thinking all along: he was the reason she didn’t get a tree because that was something they swore this year they would do this year together. 

Erin grumbled the entire time that they were in his car. “Your heat sucks,” was what she said the most. Each time she said it, the comment was followed by “We should have taken my car” and then “We’re never going to find a damn tree anyway.” 

He initially planned on ignoring her, but the more she complained, the harder it was for him to resist biting back with a few comments of his own.

“What the hell are we doing here?” She exclaimed as he pulled off of the road and into a parking lot. “They don’t sell Christmas trees at Target!” 

“Maybe not real ones,” he supplied coolly, about at his wits end with her complaining. “But I am sure we can find a decent fake one that will give off the same effects as a real one.” 

“Fake ones don’t smell,” she immediately shot back.

“Then we’ll light a couple of those tree smelling candles you have.” 

He watched out of the corner of his eye how she recoiled at his suggestion. A fake tree and candles were not the Christmas tree experience she had come to know, love, and treasure, but even she must know that finding a real Christmas tree on December 23 that didn’t require them to drive hours out of the city to cut down themselves was impossible. 

Begrudgingly, she got out the car and stalked off towards the store without so much as a glance back in his direction. Reminding himself that it was a small miracle she even chose to come with him at all, Jay took off after her while praying to God, Jesus, and every single saint he could think of that they’d be able to find her some kind of a Christmas tree. He had no clue how to fix them and their problems, but getting her a tree was something—the only thing—he knew how to fix.


	2. Chapter 2

If we can make it through December  
maybe we’ll make it through forever.  
‘Cause all I want for Christmas  
is you and me to fix this.   
If we can make it through December  
every New Year we’ll have together.  
Baby, all I want for Christmas   
is you and me to fix this.

~

Two.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year. There’ll be much mistltoeing and hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near. It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” Andy William’s voice sang cheerfully over the speaker he had demanded be set up. Looping the strand of lights around the tree for the final time, he found the song to be ironic and a bitter reminder of what this holiday season should have been like: wonderful and spent with the woman he loved. 

“What do you think?” he asked, shaking the negative thoughts from his mind and forcing a smile onto his face. Stepping back from the tree, he held his hands out wide and showed off his creation to Erin. 

Fixating her stare on the medium sized tree—the biggest one he had been able to find in the store—she simply shrugged and muttered something about going to look for her Christmas tree scented candles and then quietly shuffled out of the room towards their…her…bedroom. 

‘She didn’t have to go along with this, she could have said no,’ he reminded himself when disappointment filled up inside of him at her lacking reaction. Actually, a part of him was still stunned she went along with this impromptu evening and indulged in his crazy, whimsical idea. Could it be because she just desperately wanted a tree and he was willing to buy her one and set it up for her? Could it be because she missed him that much? Could it be because she wanted them to partake in just one of the holiday plans they came up with? He didn’t know, but he was thankful whatever the reason may be. She wasn’t talking to him and things were beyond awkward, but just being in her presence outside of their work environment had him feeling more grounded than he had in weeks. 

He needed her. Plain and simple. 

But, he had made his bed and now he had to lay in it…without her. 

Heaving a sigh, he reached out to adjust one of the light strands so that it evenly resembled the rest of the lines. Other than the lights, the tree was bare; Erin hadn’t had the time, reason, or desire to bring up her small crate of collected ornaments out from storage and, even though he offered to get them for her, she held her hand up and said it wasn’t worth it. He begged to differ, but this was her tree after all and if she didn’t want her ornaments on it, then so be it. Taking in the tree, which only rose to his chest, he watched as the white lights sparkled and shined off of the windows and hardwood floors and he found the simplicity of it all to be very beautiful.

There were no ornaments, no tree skirt, and no star or angel but the surprisingly full branched decoration was stunning against the backdrop of the black, star-free sky. 

Straining his ears to make sure that Erin was still fumbling around in her room, going through the mess of candles she swore she needed to buy even though she already had enough to fill a small store, he traced his steps back to where his jacket had been discarded on her kitchen counter. At the sight of it, his hand instinctively reached out and pulled the Tiffany’s box out of the pocket. 

‘You should have wrapped it,’ he chided as he made his way back to the tree and set the box underneath its branches at the base of the floor. He should have done a lot of things…

“It’s not too late to try,” he whispered the words to himself just as Erin tiptoed back into the room. 

“I uh, I thought I had more, but these are going to have to do,” she mumbled, holding out the two candle jars she had brought out to him and whisked away to the kitchen the second he grabbed them from her. 

“We’re gonna need a—”

“Lighter? I got it right here,” she interrupted, twirling the small object around in her hands. No words were shared as she lit the two candles and placed them on the window sill far enough away from the tree so that the decoration wouldn’t catch on fire but close enough for the smell to appear like it was coming from it. 

She had yet to notice the box on the floor and he found himself wondering how long it’ll take her before she did. 

Out of the side of his eye, he saw her slump down against the armchair of the recliner seat he begged her to let him buy and stare vacantly at the tree. 

“This wasn’t how this wasn’t supposed to be,” she whispered so low her voice was barely audible. He heard her though, he heard her loud and clear. “But thank you.”

“Don’t thank me Er.” She flinched at the sound of one of her nicknames. “Please don’t thank me.” He had no right to her gratitude, not after what he did, after he hurt her by doing the one thing he promised her he’d never do: leave. 

Silence draped over them. She did not acknowledge his words and he did not elaborate on them or say anything more. What was there to say when there was too much that needed to be said? I’m sorry was too basic and I’m fucked up seemed like a copout. He wanted to ask her why she let him do this, why she “willingly” spent her evening with him without so much as a proper objection. But he didn’t want to ruin the illusion: things were fine, they were happy, and work had just been too busy for them to properly go out and buy a real tree on time. Any minute now the image he conjured up would be torn apart, but it wasn’t going to be at his hands. He already damaged enough. 

“We were dreamers not so long ago, but one by one, we all had to grow up,” were the words being sung through the speaker. “When it seems the magic slipped away, we find it all again on Christmas day.”

“I love this song,” Erin said softly. “It’s from the Polar Express.”

“You’re favorite Christmas movie, right?” he asked even though that was the one question he did know the answer too. So many times leading up to Thanksgiving had she told him that watching that movie repeatedly was one of the things she enjoyed the most during the holiday season. When they finally came home from work on December 1, she had excitedly dragged him to the couch and immediately cued up the movie on the TV. 

“Yeah.” 

The silence resumed. 

Beginning to feel out of place in the home he had made with her and ran away from, he straightened up and began to say goodbye. 

His stumbled utterance was met with seven words that, though timidly spoken and a repeat of what she said earlier, cut him to the core: “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” 

Dropping his head so that it hung low, he foolishly offered the basic phrase he didn’t want to say. 

“I’m sorry Erin, I, God I’m sorry.” 

“Then why won’t you come back?” She exploded. “Or at the very least, why won’t you let me in?”

Shame and embarrassment filled him. If only it was that easy…

“I want to come back, but I can’t. Not right now,” he tried, his words sounding as choppy and pathetic as he felt. 

“I don’t get it,” she cries. “You come here and demand to buy me this stupid tree because you know how much I like them and you set it up and decorate it for me because you know, as much as I love trees, how much I hate putting the lights on them. And don’t think I don’t see that Tiffany’s box you put under it. I guess I just…I don’t get it!”

He watched her pull her hair in frustration and it was then that he knew he had to give her something. He couldn’t watch this anymore; he couldn’t watch her fall apart because of him and his stupidity. He hated how weak and vulnerable she looked and sounded. This was not Erin, not at all. Erin was strong and took no shit from anyone and bounced back quicker than anybody he knew. She didn’t get defeated. She didn’t lose her spark. Except she had and it seems the only way to get it back was to tell her just how he lost his.

Training his eyes on a singular bulb, he fisted his hands into the pockets of his jeans and started to confess to her what he knew she had been longing to hear since he walked out on her.

“The war changed me, you know that, I told you that,” he began. “I used to never want to admit it, to admit that I struggled but I…I struggled so much. I came back after my second tour injured and depressed after losing six of my men just to find out that my mom was dying. I stuffed the war out of my mind so that I could be with her during her last days but, when she did die, I lost it. I drank everything, smoked round the clock, fucked whoever looked my way, and picked fights with everyone. I just wanted to forget.” He paused for a moment, needing to collect his thoughts before he continued with a shuddering breath. “Mouse was doing his best to keep me from spiraling too far down, but he was injured and suffering from not knowing how to deal with the war either so it was just, we were both in a really fucked up mindset. And then Souza, one of the guys from our first tour, died and we went to Vegas for the funeral. I told you before, I don’t remember any of it. All I know is I woke up one morning someone’s husband and immediately asked for a divorce. I signed the papers and blew out of there as fast I could. At that point, Mouse was still managing a bit better than me so he brought me home, sobered me up, and sent me to fill out an application to the Police Academy. He spiraled before he could finish filling out his own.”

He spared a glance her way and saw her staring at him intently, latching onto every word he was saying. He didn’t know why she would want to; they weren’t pretty words. 

“The seven months I spent doing nothing but drinking, smoking, screwing, and fighting was completely put out of my mind once I got into the academy. The training was so grueling that I went home each night with a smile on my face because that was one less day I had to spend remembering.” He inhaled deeply. “But then I’d go to sleep and the memories sprang to life. So many nights I’d wake up screaming and thrashing around my bed totally convinced that I was back in country. It got to be so bad I considered taking medication for it.” He looked up at her then, his face fully locked in on her own. “Abby…she, seeing her brought all of that back. I left the bar that night and I just, I could feel myself getting sucked under and I was not going to take you down with me. I couldn’t. I love you too much to put you through that.” 

He watched her face contort into anger. The expression held for just a moment before it washed away into a look of pure sadness. 

“I uh, I hooked up with the Veteran’s Resource Center downtown and they recommended me to this PTSD support group,” he offhandedly concluded. “I’ve been going twice a week.” 

Her lips quivered as she meekly applauded him. “That, that’s great Jay.” 

Great was maybe a stretch, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. The meetings were brutal on even the best of days but he was slowly beginning to feel the effects of going. He felt less alone, less out-of-control of his emotions. It was surprisingly calming to sit with a large group of veterans and realize that his struggles were much more universal than he realized, that it was possible to be a fully functioning human and experience both minor and major triggers in everyday life. 

“I-I j-just,” Erin stuttered, clearly struggling to decide if she wanted to continue saying what she’d begun to say. “I just wish you felt that you felt like you could lean on me like I leaned on you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Well, he did—leaning on her meant dragging her down—but he knew his answer was not going to be deemed an acceptable one. She had been through enough in her own life, he did not want to put her through his shit as well. Call that selfish, or unfair, or one-sided, but it was in his nature to protect those he loved and he loved, loves, her more than anything in the world. 

“I may not have been through a war but all that other stuff, Jay, I’ve been through that too. I could have helped you, or at the very least, understand what you are going through,” she kept talking. “I am your partner, you’re supposed to come to me with this kind of stuff and we deal with it together.” 

“It wasn’t something that I wanted you to have to deal with Er, I love you too much to put you through that.”

“But I can take it Jay! Damnit, I can take it! What I can’t take is you leaving me the second you feel triggered. Is that how it’s always going to be? Because if so, I don’t know how I can possibly do this with you, be a couple.” His heart soared freely at her mention of them still having a possibility of a future, that even though he left her, she didn’t consider them to be over. His parting words hadn’t been meant as a break up, but given the minimal sentences they shared since that night he wasn’t sure if she had taken it that way or not. 

She slouched onto the ground and stared up at him, tears glossing over her eyes. “Where do we possibly go from here?” 

He remained standing as he contemplated over what to say. No one needed to tell him that this was a pinnacle moment in their relationship. The next words spoken would indicate whether or not they’d be able to get through this. 

“I need to get better,” he started. As important as she and their relationship were, his health was his number one priority; he’d be no good to her if his mind was still in shambles, trapped somewhere between present-day Chicago and the sandy pits of hell on earth Afghanistan. Faltering to come up with the right words to proceed with, he looked at her helplessly to see if maybe she had some kind of an answer to her own question. 

Her eyes slid away from his and got lost among the twinkling lights of her tree. “Do you think you could get better while being here?”

Pinching his eyes shut, he too gazed upon the tree lights and wondered if there was any possibility he could say yes to her question. He wanted to be with here with her more than anything, there was no question about that. But wanting something and needing something were two different things. 

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I want to be here, I want to be with you but…”

“But what?” Erin whimpered. “Jay, all I want for Christmas is for you to come home. Please just come home and we can figure this out and get through this together. Please.”

For the second time that night, irony seemed to have a sense of humor as the open lines to Mariah Carey’s “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” started playing through the speakers. 

Tuning out the song, he wondered if it was as simple as coming home and working this out with her. How many times had he asked her to do the same? To open up to him and seek comfort and strength in him when her days seemed too bleak and long? Was it really unfair of him to not expect her to want to do the same for him? Was coming home to her the solution? Could he really make her Christmas wish come true?

His heart was pounding rapidly against his chest, ensuring that he knew loud and clear what its thoughts were on the matter. 

“Uh…can I…can I think about it?” he asked delicately, too scared to upset her and too scared to say the wrong thing. 

~

Her heart sank when he didn’t say yes, but the fact that he didn’t outright say no kept it from completely plummeting into her stomach. 

She knew that it was selfish of her to plead with him to put aside his reservations and come back to her and make the apartment their home once again. To some degree it honestly sickened her how much her personal life had become intertwined with Jay Halstead and to say she was suffering without him was an understatement. Since he abruptly walked out on her three and a half weeks ago, she struggled to function like she normally did when he was a strong, steadfast figure besides her. As independent as she was, she needed Jay to give her the strength to wake up each day and find the good in it. She needed him to make her feel completely safe and loved because, with the exception of Hank and Camille, he was—is—the only human to ever make her feel that way. He knew her better than she knew herself and she needed him to keep her in check, to keep her from going off the rails and falling victim to all of the ghosts and monsters that still followed her around, waiting in the shadows until the most opportune moment to attack. 

Looking up at him, she saw how tormented he was over not being able to give her an answer. Face twisted into a pleading expression, she knew that he needed her to allow him this, that he needed time to get his thoughts together because tonight had already sucked his energy dry. 

His story rocked her and she found herself wishing that she knew it sooner because she meant it when she said she’s been through exactly what he’s been through. And, once again this was incredibly selfish of her to think, but she wished she knew back when she relapsed that her partner actually did know how she felt in the days, weeks, months following Nadia’s murder. But, even when she shook Nadia from her head, she still found herself stuck on the fact that Jay was going through exactly what she went through and yet he still didn’t think she was capability of helping him through it. 

Of course, his reasons were incredibly valid and she knew that he thought he was protecting her. One of the things she loved most about him was how fiercely protective he was over her. But, as she told him, she had let him in, she turned to him to get her through her rough patch (although a little later than either of them would have liked but technicalities), and she was expected to open up to him whenever she had a bad day. So why were the rules reversed for him? That was not an equal partnership and up until this little blip, that was the one aspect of their relationship that Jay always emphasized: they were equals. 

So, once again, why didn’t the rules apply to him? 

“Erin?” Jay asked tentatively, biting down on his lip as he did so. He always bit down on his lip when he was nervous; he also played with his fingers, twisting them around each other repeatedly until he gained his bearings or someone called him out on it. A quick glance downwards told her that his fingers were struggling in his pants’ pockets to contort into the weird positions he’d always try to attempt. 

He wanted, no needed, an answer and he needed it now. Holding up a finger, she excused herself and abruptly left the room. Taking off down the hallway and into her bedroom, she crouched down onto her hands and knees and began fishing around for the box and the bag she stashed in the back of her closet just before Thanksgiving. She pretended that she needed to look for them when, in reality, she knew exactly where they were. She had been so excited when she brought both of them home that she expertly sought out the most unlikely spot that Jay would come across in the month leading up to Christmas. 

Her drawers were the first option to go and they were quickly followed by her hamper; Jay liked to do laundry a little too much and, like the good house husband he was, always put it away for her when he was done. Hiding them under the bed was a plausible option at first, but quickly got knocked off the list when she remembered that Jay liked to deep clean the room every two weeks and that always entailed vacuuming and dusting as far under the bed as he could get. Mixed in with her beauty and feminine products and on the top of shelves were quickly knocked off the list as well and in a very short amount of time, she found herself staring at the back of her closet where all of her empty shoe boxes were stacked up. 

Opening up one of the larger boxes on the bottom of the pile that used to contain her favorite pair of knee high boots, she pulled out the small gift bag and the box of aged scotch she knew would blow him away. Not only was the drink exceptionally expensive (she choked on her own spit when she saw the price) but it was the exact bottle that he shared with his mother alongside the dinner she had made him to celebrate his high school graduation. It had been the first and last drink he ever had with his mom and she couldn’t help but notice that every time they went into a liquor store, his eyes scanned the aisles in search of the bottle. But, it was incredibly hard to track down and she felt like a small miracle had become her when she came across the bottle while out of state visiting her brother. 

Grasping onto the two, she tried not to think about how much these gifts were supposed to symbolize how much he meant to her and how invested she was in their future. She most definitely did not have a way with words and for a week following his departure, she was convinced he had left because he didn’t think she loved him enough. But, that wasn’t true, she loved, loves, him more than anything in the world. 

“I gotta have you, you know I need you, oh Love, oh Love, Christmas,” Mariah Carey was just finishing up her song when she reentered the living room. Without so much as a look at Jay, who was still standing in the same tense position she had left him in, she walked over to that damn tree he bought her and placed the box and the bag next to the Tiffany’s box he had brought her. Straightening up and taking a step back, she stared down at the assortment of gifts and felt like it was fitting that, with the exception of the gift bag, neither of the boxes were wrapped and there was no bows or anything stuck on top of them. The jewelry box and the box of scotch were laid out totally bare for the world to see just like they were to each other right now. 

“You see those,” she pointed to the gifts she just set down for them and waited until he nodded before continuing. “They’re for you. Come back Christmas day to get them and, maybe then, you’ll-you’ll have an answer for me?” She hadn’t meant for her request to come out sounding like a question. She wanted it to be a demand, but let’s face it, the situation was too dire for her to be demanding anything. As much as she wanted to be included in the decision-making process, this had to be a decision that Jay reached on his own. He had to be completely comfortable with whatever choice she made and if he wasn’t…well, the long-term results would be disastrous. 

Her heart rose just a tad bit when she saw him crack her a small smile. It was not the full Halstead grin that never failed to make her feel weak at the knees, but it was the first attempts at a smile he had given her since Abby showed up. 

“Thank you,” he gushed, the relief in his voice so evident she wanted to cry. Was he really that torn up about an answer? Did he really have to think that hard about whether or not he wanted to come home to her? 

He took two extended steps towards her and cautiously reached out his arms so that his hands rested on both of her shoulders. His touch scorched her skin but she didn’t pull away. Relishing in the feeling of the body contact she so desperately had been craving, especially late at night, she looked up through her eyelashes into his beautiful blue-green eyes. She could drown in those eyes, she foolishly thought as she wondered when she became such a corny person. “Love makes you do crazy things,” was what she once told Kim and Sylvie and how she acted when Jay was around proved her right. 

“I love you,” he whispered, his words sounding too good to be true. “I love you and I want to stay.” She had heard those words before, she thought as she jammed her eyes shut to hide the tears that were threatening to pour out of them. She couldn’t hear this again…hearing it the first time nearly killed her. “I promise I’ll figure it out soon. Two days,” he finished. In less than a second’s time she determined she liked this ending better than the first. 

An open-ended promise was better than a definitive, soul-crushing rejection. 

“Two days,” she whispered back, her voice sounding raspier than usual. He squeezed her shoulders and then turned to walk out of the apartment. Unlike the last time, she followed him. 

Just as he was about to turn the handle on the door and let himself out, she reached out and grabbed onto his hand. 

“Th-thank you again, for the tree,” she expressed. “I know it’s not what either of us planned but uh, thank you.” That was an understatement; the medium sized fake tree and two candles burning were a far cry from the planned Christmas tree shopping outing the two planned one night while watching how mystified Kevin was over the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree in Jay’s favorite Christmas movie Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. But, as much as the tree was not her cup of tea, it meant more to her than he’d ever know that he took the time to bring her to the store and put together this set up so that she wouldn’t have to experience Christmas without her favorite thing about the holiday. Sure, she bitched and moaned about it the entire time, but deep down, she loved the tree and the intent behind it. 

The medium sized tree covered in nothing but white lights and accompanied by her two candles symbolized that he still cared, that he still loves her despite everything going on with his mental and emotional state. 

“Anytime,” he offered, his eyes flickering to and from her eyes to her lips. She didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing and, to be fair, neither did she when she took a step forward and gently scraped her lips over his own. The contact was minimal and the kiss was nothing extravagant or intense like their kisses usually were. It was chaste and sweet and most noticeably replicable of a young child’s first kiss. 

They both pulled away with faint smiles on their faces. Maybe there was room for genuine hope for them after all.

“Goodnight Er,” Jay said softly. “See you in two days.” The door opened and closed before she was able to get out half of a ‘goodbye.’ 

‘Two days,’ she thought to herself as she walked back into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of her tree. Not sparing a single glance towards the presents beneath it, she stared up into the lights and allowed herself to get lost in them and the words of the song that floated around the room. 

“I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me. Please have snow and mistletoe and presents by the tree. Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams. I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.”


	3. Chapter 3

If we can make it through December  
maybe we’ll make it through forever.  
‘Cause all I want for Christmas  
is you and me to fix this.   
If we can make it through December  
every New Year we’ll have together.  
Baby, all I want for Christmas   
is you and me to fix this.

~

Three. 

The drink in her hand was ice cold but she refused to put it down. Three soggy marshmallows floated around the mug of liquid chocolate and she was unable to take her eyes off of them. Looking at them meant she didn’t have to look at the time and the empty room around her and she didn’t have to acknowledge the fact that maybe she hoped just a little too much and that maybe Jay wasn’t going to come after all. As one of the marshmallows dipped below the surface and began to sink to the bottom of the mug, she dared a glance at the time. Like the marshmallow, her heart began to sink down into her chest. 

It was 6:27.

She had officially spent Christmas day alone. 

Heaving a sigh and fighting back tears, she finally gave up on her drink and hauled herself off of the couch so she could dispose of it in the kitchen. Watching the dregs of chocolate trickle out of her mug and down the drain, she pondered over the realization that she really spent her favorite holiday alone. Of course, the day wasn’t fully over, but what Christmas happenings took place after 6:30? By that time, the food had all been served, presents had all been opened, and guests were on their way out the door. Too bad the food she specially ordered went uneaten, the presents under the tree hadn’t been opened, and the guest she hoped with all of her might would knock on her door never showed up. 

Slamming her now empty mug down on the counter, she relived that night two days ago where he promised that he’d stopped by. “I promise I’ll figure it out soon. Two days,” he had said. “See you in two days.” 

“What a load of bullshit,” she grumbled as she stomped down the hall and into their—her—bedroom to change out of the pair of black jeans and brand new creamy white sweater she picked out to wear. Yanking the clothing items off of her body, she recoiled with pain and disgust at the sight of the matching red lace bra and underwear set she impulsively bought after seeing it in the window of her favorite lingerie store in the mall yesterday. How stupid she was for thinking that the day would end in her favor, that for just once in her life, she’d get the happy ending. 

By nature, men were liars and she should have known better than to think that Jay was the exception. 

Pulling out a pair of red and black buffalo plaid pajama pants and loose, black, long-sleeve V-neck shirt, she quickly slipped the pants on over the lacy underwear and, after unclipping her bra and tossing it onto the floor, did the same with the shirt. Stepping into her favorite pair of moccasins, she made her way into the room’s attached bathroom to remove the last of the efforts she put into the day from her face. 

Her tears were released at the sight of her makeup scattered all over the sink area and her dirty clothes and towel littered across the floor. 

“Well, you can do some serious damage in a bathroom,” Jay’s words echoed in her head as she sunk to the ground, back against the wall, and sobbed. 

He was supposed to be here by now and he wasn’t. Why hadn’t he come when he said he would? 

‘He most likely realized you aren’t worth coming back for,’ a voice in the back of her head snarled. She quickly shook the thought to the side; Jay told her he wanted to come back, he wanted to be with her. ‘But all men are liars,’ the voice quickly retorted.

Black, mascara filled tears stained her face as she grappled to make sense of her predicament and what to do about it. 

All she wanted for Christmas was for him to come home, not whatever piece of jewelry that was sitting in the Tiffany’s box he’d brought by two days before. 

What had changed in two days? How could he go from promising to stop by no matter what his decision may be about coming back home to not stopping by at all? 

She knew that he had no plans for the day. He had gone to Christmas mass the night before—an old, Halstead family tradition—and he and Will had plans to visit their mother’s grave first thing in the morning with flowers and cups of coffee spiked with Bailey’s Irish cream. He always carved out time around lunch to stop by the Corson’s for a bite to eat and to exchange small gifts with them before taking the rest of the day to spend with Mouse and Mouse’s parents and three younger sisters. Since they were seriously dating this year, in lieu of going to the Gerwitz’s since Mouse was overseas, he suggested weeks ago that they’d spend a portion of Christmas day with Hank. Of course, those plans were never set in stone since Hank planned to make the two hour trip north of the city to spend the holiday with his grandson and daughter-in-law and Jay left before they could come up with anything else. But, even if he did end up stopping by the Gerwitz’s, or even made the daring decision to visit his dad for the first time in three years, he should have been home by now. 

Picking herself up off of the ground, she used makeup remover to wipe away the mess of inky black treks that ran down her face until it was clean and nothing but puffy red eyes stared back at her in the mirror. Shame filled up inside of her stomach. Here she was, a badass detective, sobbing over some guy because he went back on a promise made to her.

“Not just some guy,” she muttered while mentally reminding herself that the day was not over yet. “The guy.” 

Shaking her head and swiping at the last of her tears, she sharply turned on her heel and exited the bathroom; she didn’t want to have to look at her reflection anymore. Walking down the hallway and back into the living room, she wondered how she was going to go on tomorrow if Jay didn’t show up tonight. Loss was no stranger to her life—her childhood, Camille, Jules, Nadia, Justin, and Lexi had all been prematurely taken from her—but she had never felt a loss quite like this before, the loss of a significant other who meant more than the world to her. 

‘Oh God,’ she thought as she sunk down into the couch. ‘How am I supposed to work besides him if he really doesn’t come?’ 

Digging her phone out from where it had previously been stuffed between the seat cushions, she tapped the screen to life and zoned in on the time: 6:54. Christmas day may have ended, but Christmas night had just begun. Holding onto the sliver of hope that he might still come, she tried not to be too discouraged by both the time and the lack of text messages. Tossing her phone over to the opposite end of the couch, she forced her mind to become mesmerized by the twinkling white lights on the tree. Why focus on how sad and upset she was when there was this perfectly imperfect, beautiful tree in front of her?

A stillness overcame her and the images of a life she had started to envision for her and Jay seemed to come to life within each of the little tree lights. By no means an extravagant one, their life together was supposed to be fun, simple, and full of love. She’d be content with just him and maybe a dog or two until he’d convince her that having one kid wouldn’t be the end of the world. She’d eventually say yes with a reluctance she’d immediately regret once she heard their baby’s first heartbeat. They’d raise their child together and, when their baby graduated from college and moved out, she’d admit to him that maybe retiring to Wisconsin wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. 

Only recently had these images come to her, but once they had, she had been unable to shake them. They were what made his abrupt departure from their home hurt a tenfold more. Never before had she even dared to dream up of an actual future with a man, but something about Jay Halstead made her believe that maybe, just maybe, that kind of future was possible and worth thinking of. Her eyes reflexively dropped down to focus on the small gift bag she had put together to accompany the bottle of scotch she picked up for him. The red and white striped bag filled with an excess amount of decorative tissue paper served as physical proof to just how fiercely she had begun to believe in their future together. 

Maybe she jumped the gun and acted impulsively when she picked out the gift. Big, romantic gestures were always Jay’s thing and she was content with being the happy receiver of them. Romance was never her strong suit—they both knew that—and the only real efforts she made into showing her love for him was dressing up in some ridiculously elaborate set or occasionally offering up the driver’s seat. In her defense, not that he ever complained, it was the most she had ever done for any guy but that didn’t stop her from feeling slightly guilty and wanting to do more for him. He did so much for her and she owed it to not just him, but to herself, to put forth some real effort to demonstrate just how committed she was to him, to them. 

A soft thud! snapped her from her thoughts and she jumped back in fright when she noticed the figure of a man standing in front of her. 

Ignoring the duffle bag that had been released onto the floor and peering up at the man who dropped it in disbelief, her hazel immediately hardened when they met his blue-green ones. 

“Merry Christmas Erin,” Jay greeted with a sheepish shrug.

~

He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was expecting to get from Erin, but a couch pillow to the face was nowhere near anything on his list. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve it though.

Fear—pure, unadulterated fear—had kept him from arriving sooner. Could he move back home and be the man she needed? Could he work through his problems with her by his side? Could he put her through the hell that he had been forced to relive and endure every day since Abby abruptly showed up? Could she handle that? Should she be expected to handle that? The same questions that he had been struggling to find the answers to for three and a half weeks now swirled around in his head faster than a tornado since he left the apartment two days earlier. He knew that he wanted to let her in, he just didn’t know how he could. He was scared of what she might say and do when she found out all of the horrible things he’d done overseas and the overweight burdens he shouldered each day. But most of all, he was petrified that he’d lose her for good if it all came to be too much for the both of them and that she’d be added to the still flaming pile of collateral damage the war he chose to fight demanded to collect. 

All day he grappled over what the right thing to do was. He knew what he wanted to do, but he needed to determine whether what he wanted and what they needed were compatible. His inability to come to a concrete decision was why he was so late to arrive; he needed to be sure of what his answer would be before he came knocking on her door. 

So mentally and physically exhausted after staying up the past two nights pondering over what to do, he found himself offering up his internal debate as a topic of conversation amongst those he traditionally spent the holidays with. Only the most primal form of desperation was able to render him to such a divulging mood and, if he wasn’t so desperate to hear a viewpoint that extended beyond the jumbled range of his own mind, he would have been embarrassed by how weak and pathetic he must have sounded to everyone he talked to. 

When he asked his brother for advice this morning at their mother’s gravesite, Will added an extra shot of Bailey’s to his cup of coffee and requested that he get the hell out of his place or else he was going to start charging him rent. Gail Corson and Rebecca Gerwitz both told him to pull his head out of his ass and go home to the girl he loved. Dan Corson simply told him that he was a “good guy” who would “do the right thing” before reminding him that life was too short to worry about details that essentially meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Steve Gerwitz simply asked, “Hasn’t the war taken enough?” before getting up from the dining room table in search of another bottle of beer. Having overheard his discussion with their parents, Allie Corson and Mouse’s three sisters—Nicole, Elizabeth, and Jenna—all chimed in and told him something similar about how they’d never speak to him again if he continued to be such an idiot and let a girl like Erin go. Their words had him biting back snappy remarks about how each of them had only met her a handful of times and couldn’t possible understand the full extent of the situation he and Erin were in. 

He wished more than anything that he could have asked his mother what she thought, but as he wandered back towards her grave after leaving the Gerwitz’s house around 5:30, he concluded that maybe he needed to really take in the general consensus that his brother and makeshift family had given him: go home to Erin. More than anything it was what he wanted to do and maybe they were all right, maybe he had been thinking into this way more than he should have been.

A majority of his support group focused on teaching the participants how to look past the fear and learn how to let the people in their lives into their struggles so that they didn’t have to face them alone. 

“What do you think Ma?” he had whispered, crouching down into the snow and reaching his ungloved hand out to grasp onto the freezing cold marble gravestone that bore his mother’s name. “What do I do?” 

He’d been foolish to think that the stone would talk back and give him an answer that trumped all the others he had gotten.

A second couch pillow hit his face with even more force than the first. 

“What took you so long?” Erin screeched, her words doused in anger, annoyance, and, dare he say, relief. “I have been waiting for you like a fucking idiot all fucking day and you decide to not only show up but to let yourself in at seven o’clock at night?” 

“I-I had to be sure,” he feebly whispered. “I had to be sure.” 

“Be sure about what?” she demanded loudly. “About me? About whether or not you want to be with me?” 

A spike of anger flared up in his own body at her words. “That’s not what this was about Erin and you know it.” 

“Then what did you have to be sure about? What took you so goddamn long to come home?” 

The underlying pain in her words fueled his own pain and quenched his burst of anger. 

Glancing around the room, he settled his mind before focusing back on her hazel eyes. “I had to be sure that I was strong enough to do this, to come home and be the kind of man you deserve,” he stated, tentatively reaching his hands out to rest on her shoulders. She flinched under his touch, but before he could remove his hands from her shoulders and hang them back by his sides, she brought her own hands up and placed them on top of his own. 

“Are-are you sure now?” she stuttered, the fight suddenly gone from her voice, body, and eyes. “Because Jay, I can’t lose you, I refuse to lose you to this. Please, please tell me that you’re coming home.” 

He relaxed under her gaze, which was filled with so much love for him it was overwhelming, and leaned forward to brush his lips against her forehead. “As long as you’re okay with me sleeping on the couch for a little bit until I feel slightly more confident in my control over…over my PTSD, then yeah, I’m coming home.” The couch stipulation was one he’d pieced together while talking with his brother this morning. Will hardly meant anything by it when he suggested it in a passing comment, but he had latched onto the idea. It wasn’t ideal, but it could be a good, reasonable solution to one of his biggest concerns about coming home. Sleeping besides her was, in his opinion, better than heaven, but he was unable to trust his ability to totally control his nightmares and prevent them from becoming too unruly and a danger to her wellbeing. Besides, rejoining her in their own bed would be a pretty solid incentive for him to take his diagnosis and recovery seriously. 

“I don’t care, I just want you home,” Erin stated before smashing her lips onto his, kissing him fiercely. In almost no time, their bodies were tumbling down onto the very couch that had just been deemed acceptable enough to be his bed for the unforeseeable future. Passion enveloped them as they frantically rid themselves of the clothes that barred their bodies from becoming one. 

“I love you so much,” he choppily breathed out, cupping her flushed, rosy red cheeks in his hands and placing a kiss onto her lips that was so chaste it was an extremely stark contrast to its fervent predecessors. “And I am so, so sorry.” The basic apology didn’t have time to leave an unpleasant, dry taste in his mouth; Erin refused to allow it the chance. 

Her hands snaked around his waist and glided along the dip in his back until they rested on his bottom. With a teasing squeeze, she looked him in the eye and panted back, “You’re home now, stop apologizing.” 

Smiling down at her, he allowed himself a brief moment to bask in the truth behind her comment: he was home. 

~

“I missed you, us, this,” she whispered, trailing her fingers over his chest in vain attempts to connect the spatter of freckles together so that they made one, abstract drawing. “So much.” 

Even with beads of sweat still glistening on her forehead and hair a wild mess of his own creation, he still looked down at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. That was one of the things she loved the most about Jay: he made her feel like she really, truly was. 

Feeling his lips ghost over the crown of her head, which was tucked just beneath his chin, she heard him whisper, “Me too. Erin, I am so sor—”

“Stop,” she cut him off, peeling her body away from his. Goosebumps broke out all over her arms and legs at the loss of heat his body had been supplying her. “At least for tonight, please just stop with the apologies. I know that we have so much to talk about and work through. I know that we still have to come up with some kind of plan for how this is going to work after…well, after everything. And please know that I am still so incredibly angry and upset with you and with what happened but can we please just put off hashing it all out until tomorrow? It’s Christmas, my favorite holiday, and the past two days I have been anxiously looking forward to spending it with you. The day may be over, but we still have tonight so please, can you just let us have this one night? Can we please just forget everything for a little while and enjoy the rest of our first official Christmas in our home together?” 

She paused to take a breath and check in to see where his emotions were at. His eyes, which usually refrained from revealing his emotions, were surprisingly overflowing with understanding and appreciation for her words. He wanted it too—one night where they could forget the shitstorm that ripped apart their lives and just be happy and in love without a care in the world. Leaning down, she lightly kissed his lips, pulling back before he had the chance to react and initiate what would undoubtedly lead to a second round on the couch. 

“What do ya say?” She asked, the right corner of her lips tilting upwards. “Does that work for you?”

The final remains of the tension that had been in his shoulders since he arrived left as he smiled up at her and squeezed the area where his hands rested on her hip bones gently. “Oh, definitely,” he assured, using the muscles in his abdomen to sit himself upright. “You can yell at me all you want tomorrow if it means we get to salvage tonight and turn it into something special.” 

“You sound like someone from those stupid Hallmark movies,” she laughed, swatting at his chest affectionately. 

“You love me for it,” he teased. “Just like you know you love those stupid movies.” 

Rolling her eyes, she allowed herself a single moment to cherish how easy it was for them to fall back into their usual banter. Thank God for Jay Halstead and his insatiable need to do whatever it takes to make her happy. It was a trait of his she still had yet to get used to, but appreciated more than he would ever know. 

“Come on then, let’s get dressed and open presents!” A small, meek voice in the back of her head told her that her giddiness was wrong and that her delight over the turn of events was uncalled for but she rammed it to the side. After all of the pain, heartache, anger, and despair that took over her life the past three and a half weeks, she just wanted to spend a few hours happy…unequivocally happy. Jay was home and, in due time, she knew they’d fix things and be even better than they were before. So, was there any real harm in ignoring their issues for another twenty-four hours? She didn’t think so and, judging by how quickly that meek, little voice was silenced, so did the rest of her mind. 

Having gotten her pajamas on much quicker than Jay managed to put his own clothes back on, she lightly jogged over to where her speaker sat on the shelf and turned it on, immediately filling up the room with sounds of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “Christmas Canon.” 

“My mom loved this song,” Jay mused, sliding his belt through the loops on his jeans. “She always had it playing in the house and in the car.” 

She smiled softly at the mention of his mother, something he rarely ever did, and wrapped her arms loosely around his waist when she was close enough to him to do so. “She had good taste in Christmas music, this song is one of my favorites.” 

They remained locked in the embrace for a few, silent seconds until Jay broke it with the reminder that they still had presents to open. “Open yours first,” he prompted, pulling away to pick up the Tiffany’s box and hand it to her. 

She took the box from him and crisscrossed her legs as she sat down on the floor. Threads of curiosity weaved around her as she gingerly began to slide off the white ribbon knotted into a perfect bow. No one had ever gifted her jewelry before and, given the extravagance of the brand, she couldn’t deny the itch she felt to see what Jay had picked out for her. 

“I uh, I hope you like it,” he stuttered out, clearly nervous to see her reaction. “It’s nothing too crazy, but I just wanted to get…it’s our first Christmas living together and I wanted to get you something to make it extra special.” 

She smiled at his anxiety and softly reassured him that this was already the nicest gift she had ever received and she hadn’t even finished opening the box yet. 

Tipping the jewelry casing out from the slightly larger cardboard box, her fingers quivered slightly as she pressed down on the little lock and flipped the cover open. Her eyes widened in astonishment when they fell upon the shiny gold locket that laid inside. Simple yet elegant, the heart-shaped locket with the single, small diamond in the middle was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen, let alone owned. 

“Jay,” she gasped, the tip of her pointer finger tracing the outline of the necklace. “This is, gosh, this is beautiful!”

“Y-you like it?” he asked, scooching closer to where she sat on the floor so that he too could get a look at the piece he’d gifted her. 

“I love it,” she breathed out. “I absolutely love it.” All other words failed her as she continued to take in the necklace in her hand. What more could she say other than that she loved it? 

He draped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her into his chest. “I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s with my mom,” he chuckled. She melted into his side, hands still clutching the box containing her necklace as if they feared it would disappear the second their hold let up. It was not lost on her that this was the second time he mentioned his mother in the span of minutes and the connection between his mother and the locket in her hand made her love it a thousand times more. “And every time we watched it, she used to always tell me that she’d be forever disappointed in me if I never got the girl I loved something from Tiffany’s.” 

Words still slow to come to mind, she tipped her head upwards and peppered kisses along his jawline. 

“I had it engraved,” he announced with a cough that elevated his voice to a louder sound. “See?” He turned the locket over in the box and her eyes narrowed in on the short, sweet note etched into the gold backing. 

“To Erin,” she read, the grin on her face widening with each word. “You’re my angel. Love, Jay.” 

“You are,” Jay whispered before she could say anything in her own words. “If it weren’t for you…God, I’d be more of a mess than I already am. You make me want to get better, to be better, and I swear I am going to fix myself because of you.” 

Tears pricked her eyes at his comment. “I love you Jay,” she lamely responded. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he was all of those things to her too, that he was the one hand she reached for when she fell down her hole and couldn’t pull herself out. He made her want to get better too. But, right now was not about her, it was about him. Making a mental note to mention all of these thoughts to him when they hashed out what had become of their relationship in the coming days, she set the box down and crawled away from his body and towards the two remaining presents under the tree. 

“Here,” she said, holding out the box and gift bag to him. “These are for you.” 

~

He decided to open up the box first, partly because he already had a feeling he knew what was inside of it. Still feeling the thrum of energy that whooshed through him when she said she loved the gift he agonized over picking out for her, he made quick work of opening the two front folds of the box. The energy immediately vacated from his body when he laid eyes on the brand and type of alcohol confined within the box. He expected her to have gifted him some kind of alcohol yes, but not this, not a bottle that meant so much to him and had been impossibly hard to track down since the last time he had a sip of it. 

“That’s the right bottle right?” Erin’s fearfully voice comment brought his mind back to the present. “The one you and your mom had…

“…For my high school graduation, yeah. How-how did you know? How did you find it?” 

“You got drunk one night and told me. Don’t think I didn’t notice all of those times you spent searching every aisle in the liquor store.” While he wracked his brains trying to remember a time he got drunk enough to bring up old memories of his mom, Erin proceeded to tell him about how she came across the bottle while picking up a six-pack of beer to show up at her brother’s new place with. “As soon as I saw it, I knew that I couldn’t not get it,” she finished. 

Slipping the bottle out of the packaging and holding it up so that he could read the inscription on the label, he heard his mind berate him for ever thinking leaving this girl was the right thing to do. 

“I-I honestly don’t know what to say,” he spluttered. “Thank you. I…wow, I can’t believe it, thank you!” He sounded like an idiot, but he was too stunned by the gift. If anyone else was watching, they would have probably laughed at how reverently he was holding the bottle and how speechless he was over it. But it was more than just a bottle; he knew that and, evidently, Erin knew that. It was the last, physical reminder of his final, great memory with his mom before he shipped off to hell and she got sick. 

“You’re welcome,” Erin smiled, visibly pleased with herself that she managed to have such immense success with picking out the gift. “Now, open the next one.” Still too caught up on the bottle in his hand, he failed to notice how she transitioned onto her knees and began to nervously rock back and forth on them. 

After one last look at the aged scotch, he carefully set the bottle back in its packaging and set it aside to pick up the surprisingly light gift bag. 

“The scotch is more than enough Er, you didn’t have to get me anything else,” he said as he started to pull the tissue paper out of the bag. 

“Well,” Erin began, her apprehensive lilt halting his movements and prompting him to finally look up at her. Concern crept up inside of him at the sight of her body rocking back and forth and her fingers twirling around each other uncomfortably. “This is more of a gift for us than just you.” 

Filled with intrigue, he ripped out the rest of the tissue paper until there was nothing left in the bag but a small red envelope just big enough to fit a business card. Tearing the envelope open, he tipped it over and out fell a thin slip of paper and a thicker card. His eyes bulged when he read over what she had scribbled on the thin piece of paper and they doubled in size when they grazed over the information on the business card.

“Are you serious?” He croaked, looking up at her. Biting her lip in anticipation, she nodded. 

“You kept going on and on about how you always wanted one at Thanksgiving and when I was with Annie Black Friday shopping we passed by this place and, I don’t know, I thought it’d be a good idea,” she explained with a shrug. “I mean, this was all before…everything happened…so we can hold off on getting one for a while but, I don’t know, was it a bad idea?” 

He glanced down at the little note she included with the business card again and repeated the words in his head until they sunk in and a huge smile formed on his face.

Ten, twenty, thirty years from now will be even more fun with a dog, don’t you think? 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and letting the glee he felt at the prospect of them expanding their family be known in his voice. “Not a bad idea, a great one.” He looked down at the local animal shelter’s card one more time. She was right, the timing right now may not be ideal, but her gift blew him away even more than the bottle of scotch did. 

For as long as he had known her, Erin Lindsay was petrified of commitment and rightfully so; people always left her and any relationship she grew up around and had herself always crashed and burned and left an enormous pile of carnage in their wake. He had tried so hard to be different, to show her that she was deserving of a solid, steady, long-term relationship that came with no strings attached to it. Asides from loving her too much to let her go, one of the main reasons he had for coming back home to her was to show her that he was everything she wanted him to be: not like the worthless men of her past. Right now, he felt like he couldn’t do much for her, but he could do that and work out his recovery around making sure she knew that. 

The card and note in his hand told him that she did know that; that she saw past tonight and really believed in their future together. 

“Yeah?” She sought confirmation to his approval, looking as though she was petrified he was just placating her attempts to progress their relationship into something even more committed to ensuring its longevity. 

“Seriously, I love the idea and am stoked about getting a dog with you,” he promised, bringing his body closer to hers and cupping her chin in between his fingers. “We’re going to be a family of three.” 

She closed the space between them, lowly uttering, “Yeah, we are.” 

They became lost in each other once more, the words to a more pop-sounding Christmas song dancing around them as they did.

“Sweet dreams of holly and ribbon, mistakes are forgiven, and everything is icy and blue. And you would be there too, under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow, and telling me ‘I love you.’”

Later that night, after Erin’s locket had been secured around her neck and the bottle of scotch was given a home in the liquor cabinet, he and Erin worked on turning the couch into a suitable place for him to spend the night on. 

“Are you sure you can’t just come to bed?” She asked for the fifth time since he came home. “I’ll put my pillows between us and everything.” 

It crushed him that he once again had to tell her no, he couldn’t. But, he had to take his self-imposed restrictions seriously for the betterment of the both of them. 

Draping one of their thicker throw blankets over the sheets she had tucked into the cushions for him, he shook his head and denied her request. “Soon, but not now,” he said, knowing his words were going to be brought up in the showdown they were definitely going to be engaged in for the rest of the week starting tomorrow. “Trust me on this Er, it’s for the best right now.” For the best just like their mutually decided upon decision to hold off bringing home a new, four-legged family member until he did feel solid enough to sleep besides her at night. They had a responsibility to each other before they could take on the responsibility of another. 

At the sound of her letting out a heavy sigh, he took her into his arms and whispered reassurances into her ear until she relaxed against him. “Hey, this is only a temporary arrangement, we’re going to make it through this. I promise, we’ll be fixed up in no time and fighting over how many damn pillows actually need to be in the bed each night.” His reference to their silly nightly arguments did the trick and elicited a small giggle from her mouth. “We got this babe, I got this. We’re going to make it through this.” 

She nodded against his chest, her head bunching up the material of the t-shirt he chose to sleep in. “Okay,” she mumbled. “I love you.” 

He smiled brightly. He had come so close to never hearing her say those words to him again. 

“Goodnight babe, sleep tight. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He pressed a kiss to her lips before dropping down onto the couch and kicking his legs under the covers. 

“You better be,” she warned with a slight smirk before turning to go down the hallway that led to their bedroom.

“Hey by the way,” he shouted out just before she disappeared from his sight. Draping his arm over the back of the couch, he waited until she completely stopped walking and faced him before continuing. “I love you too.”

She beamed at his confession, shyly nodded her head in both acknowledgement of his words and nonverbal repetition of her own, and then turned around and made her way to bed. 

Shifting down into the couch, it took him a few moments to get comfortable. ‘Thank God Erin picked out a couch that has both function and form,’ he thought to himself as he turned onto his side and stared sleepily into the lights of the little tree he’d gotten her. Neither of them had the heart to turn them off and he was more than okay falling asleep under the soft glow they casted around the room. Entranced by the twinkling lights, an overwhelming sense of contentment and happiness blanketed over him as he gave into the exhaustion the past three and a half weeks had bestowed upon him. 

“If we can make it through December, every New Year we’ll be together.”


	4. Epilogue

If we can make it through December  
maybe we’ll make it through forever.  
‘Cause all I want for Christmas  
is you and me to fix this.   
If we can make it through December  
every New Year we’ll have together.  
Baby, all I want for Christmas   
is you and me to fix this.

Epilogue. 

One Year Later…

The silence was deafening, especially since he had grown used to the noise that was ever-present in the apartment. Whether it be a dog barking, music playing, shouts of laughter, or cries of anger, the two-bedroom apartment could always be counted on to have something going on inside of it. 

Except for now. 

Now, it was just him, his thoughts, and no noise to distract him. 

The silence was what he thought he wanted—what he thought he needed—but now that he had it, he wasn’t so sure what exactly he had been thinking. If anything, the silence seemed to make everything worse. 

Desperate to ignore the screams in his head (they were getting far too loud for his liking), he stared down at the picture he was clutching in his right hand and forced his mind to go back to the day it had been taken. 

~

“Get up!” Erin demanded loudly, her voice way to cheerful for the morning’s ungodly hour. “Up!” A pillow made contact with the back of his head before he even had the chance to crack an eye open. 

“Damnit Erin,” he grumbled, too tired to even make a quip about how she had gotten up before him for the first time since he’d met her. “I’m awake, cut it with the pillows.” 

“If you’re awake, then get up!” she chirped. “We have to be on the road in no less than thirty minutes!” As if he’d forget, he was the one who came up with their travel schedule. Rolling his eyes, he sat up with a groan and took a moment to take in the utter happiness that radiated off of his girlfriend. Fully dressed in a pair of jeans and her favorite olive green sweater, she was lightly bouncing on the balls of her sock-clad feet with a beaming smile on her face. 

“Come on Jay, get up,” she began to whine. “I don’t want to be late.” Deciding to put an end to her torture, he hauled himself off of their bed and made his way towards the bathroom. 

“Be ready in fifteen,” he promised after taking a look at himself in the mirror and deducing that he could go just one more day without shaving. 

He didn’t even wait for the shower water to heat up before he jumped in; they were on a time crunch and he did not want to have to spend the two hour car ride with a pissed off girlfriend because he decided to indulge in a hot shower. 

Twenty minutes later, the two of them made their way down to the parking lot where their shared car was parked. Having a shared car had been Erin’s idea. According to her, there was no real need for them to both have their own vehicle since they worked at the same place and each had work cars waiting for them at the District. “Besides,” she had said when the conversation had been brought up after Jay’s old but trusty Toyota Camry finally shit the bed. “It’s not like we really go anywhere outside of work without each other anyway and, if we do, there’s always Uber.” Finding no flaw in her argument, he reasoned that sharing a car would save them a ton of money in the long run…money that could most definitely be used on bigger, better, and more long-term things.

“Keys,” Erin requested as she separated their clasped hands and veered off to the driver’s side of the car. Not even bothering to make a face of indignation, he tossed the keys in her direction and opened the passenger side door. As she got comfortable in her seat and put the keys in the ignition and turned the car on, he made sure to launch into his repetitive spiel about being a ‘house husband.’ 

Like always, she only responded with a light-hearted scoff as she turned up the radio’s volume. 

They pulled up to his buddy’s house a tad bit earlier than expected thanks to there being no cars on the road and Erin having somewhat of a lead foot. Stepping out of the car, they were greeted with a cool gust of wind and sounds of a man shouting exuberantly. 

“Halstead, good to see you, you son of a bitch,” Ian Shephard boomed in a voice that was way too big for his small statured body. “It’s been too long!”

“Shep, buddy, good to see ya!” he walked ahead of Erin and pulled his friend into a tight embrace. “Maybe if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere I’d come visit more often.” 

Ian shrugged and turned his gaze on Erin while saying, “I’ve had enough noise to last me a lifetime. Now, introduce me to the poor lady who got saddled onto you.” 

Shoving his friend playfully, he gestured to Erin and introduced the two to each other. “Ian, this is my partner and girlfriend Erin Lindsay. Er, this is Ian Shephard. We were in the same unit as me and Mouse both of our tours.” 

Erin smiled in greeting and reached out to shake Ian’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” she offered, her eyes not so subtly scanning the area. He knew exactly what she was looking for and, evidently so did Ian. 

“Come on,” his friend jerked his head inside the house. “Carly has them all in the basement because it has been too cold to keep them out in the barn.” 

He could feel himself falling even more in love with Erin as she all but skipped into the house and followed Ian down to the basement. She had been counting down the days to this moment and, even though this was technically his Christmas present from her, he knew she was over the moon excited to finally be able to pick out the newest addition to their family. 

Initially, they had planned to go to the shelter whose business card had accompanied Erin’s Christmas card to him, but then he heard through the grapevine that Ian and his wife Carly’s two dogs had a bigger than anticipated litter of puppies. 

“There’s no way we will be able to take care of them all,” Ian had explained over the phone two weeks earlier. “So far, we found homes for three of them but we still have five more that need placements.” 

He prematurely told him to put him and Erin down for one after Ian confirmed he’d give a puppy to them free of charge. “As long as you’re cool footing their medical bill,” was the only stipulation. 

It took a bit of convincing on his part to get Erin to agree to getting their dog from his friend and not the shelter she initially wanted to pick one from. In the end though, after they were both thoroughly exhausted, she consented and was, dare he say, even more excited over the prospects of getting a dog that would 100% be their own.

Ducking his head so that his forehead wouldn’t smack into the wooden frame of the basement door, he followed behind his girl and the former Ranger, listening as Ian prattled off all of the need to know information about the litter of puppies they were making their way down to meet. 

“There are six girls and two boys,” Ian explained. “The runt of the litter is a girl and one of the boys is already accounted for. Ramsey decided to take him actually.” He nodded his head at the mention of the guy who had been in their unit during their first tour. “Poor bastard said he needs some masculinity in his life. Three sisters, a wife, and four daughters, God bless him.” He and Ian both chuckled at the comment while Erin looked horrified. 

“Four daughters?” She mouthed to him when she was positive that Ian was not looking in their direction. Nodding, he chose to ignore the glimmers of fear that flashed in her eyes. Whether it be at the thought of having four daughters or four kids he wasn’t all that sure, but he hoped it was the first option and not the latter. Something about actually getting a dog with Erin solidified that he did want children with her and it was going to wreak havoc on his mental health if he started to think that she didn’t want that with him.

The thought immediately slipped from his mind when the sound of little yips and barks filled his ears. 

“Well, here they are,” Ian announced, the boom back in his voice. “The one with the blue collar is Ramsey’s but the rest are unaccounted for so have at it.” 

He held himself back and watched as Erin dropped to the ground in the middle of the sectioned off area of the basement flooring and laughed as all eight black Labrador puppies began to crowd around her and climb into her lap. 

“Jay!” She looked up at him, her face the picture of pure enjoyment. “Come down here and help me pick one out!” 

Heeding her words, he stepped into the makeshift pen and, careful not to step on any of the little puppies, crossed his legs as he sat down besides her. Immediately, seven of the eight dogs transitioned their attention onto him and he released a laugh of his own when they began mercilessly kissing his hand and climbing up his body to get at his face. 

The eighth dog remained in Erin’s arms, more than content to sit there and bask in the feeling of her hand running through the fur on its little back and ears. Glancing up and seeing his girl’s wide smile and shining eyes as she looked down at the little puppy in her arms, he knew immediately that that was the one they would be taking home. 

And, sure enough, when the puppy was officially eight weeks old, he and Erin made the trek back up to Ian’s place to pick up the only other male puppy in the litter. 

“Did you guys pick out a name?” Ian ask as he corralled the new family of three together to take a picture. He had almost forgotten his friend’s secret obsession with photography but, as Ian rambled on about the perfect lighting outside, he was glad to have been reminded. They were now a family of three and he wanted that documented in every possible way that it could be. 

“Obi,” he announced, draping his arm around Erin’s shoulders so that it just grazed the top of Obi’s head. Against all odds, Erin gave him free reign to pick out the dog’s name and vowed that she would not give any input. “This is your Christmas present after all,” was her justification when he began to protest. “Just don’t pick out anything stupid.” 

Judging by the look on her face when he blurted out the name he had picked out way back when he was a little boy and begging his parents for the dog he could never have because his mother and Will were both allergic, it was painstakingly clear that she thought the Star Wars themed name fell under the “stupid” category. But, to her credit, she said nothing and allowed his boyhood dream come true. 

“Solid name,” was all Ian said before going into full photographer mode and making sure their bodies were positioned perfectly and Obi was at least looking somewhat in the direction of the camera. 

~

A half-hearted chuckle escaped his mouth at the memory of how many pictures Ian took before he felt he had enough good ones to choose from. The best of the five ‘good’ images had been blown up into a much larger print and hung proudly just down the hall in the living room opposite of his 65-inch flat screen TV he had finally convinced Erin to let him buy shortly before Obi arrived in their home. 

She had called the electronic device both a monstrosity and his congratulatory present for “graduating” from the intense one-on-one therapy sessions he had begun to attend once a week alongside his group meetings to just needing the group meetings. 

That had been one of the things they fought about in the days following his official return home. He didn’t think he needed it and she begged to differ. 

~

“You up and left because you couldn’t handle yourself! And now you’re sleeping on the goddamn couch every night because you’re petrified to get back in bed with me,” she shouted, her eyes blazing with anger and her neck turning the crimson red it always turned when she was more than pissed. “You are going to see a therapist even if I have to drag you there each session myself.” 

~

Instead of telling her that he’d like to see her try and that not even his own mother had been able to convince him to go to therapy when he came back only a semi-mess after his first tour, he chose to listen to the truth of her words. And the small part of his mind that still protested promptly shut up when he took notice of the flames in her eyes that told him if he didn’t go, well, that was going to be it for them. And he was not—could not—lose her. He loved her too much. So, he resigned to go. 

But, despite his willingness in the end, when Dr. Bowman asked him what prompted him to seek out professional treatment, his answer to her was a grimace and roll of his eyes as he grumbled out, “My girlfriend made me.” 

Shaking his head at his own stubbornness and reminding himself that, in the end, Dr. Bowman had been nothing short of a Godsend, he set the photo of him and Erin laughing as Obi curled his head towards Erin in an attempt to lick her cheek down next to his phone. He frowned when he noted that the screen was still pitch black. 

The silence had completely taken over his life. 

Groaning, he collapsed backwards on the bed and rested his hands over his eyes. The silence wasn’t fun, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Erin to come back home and for Obi to come bounding in behind her, his nails skidding against the hardwood floors. No matter how short they requested the groomers to cut his nails, he always skid; the puppy’s energy was just too much for his still-growing body. 

The image of the dog barreling head first into the back of the couch instantly vanished when he heard the soft ping! of his phone. He grasped blindly at the covers until he latched onto the device and, in such a haste to get to the message, failed to see who it was from. 

He deflated when he saw it was just a text from Will asking how his Christmas was going. 

In the silence, he had almost forgotten that today was Christmas. The day’s festivities seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it had only been just under an hour since he arrived back at the apartment from making the traditional rounds and visiting everyone that was to be visited. 

Knowing that his brother’s innocent question was not so innocent and was implying something much more deeper than just asking how his day was, he tossed his phone back onto the duvet covered mattress and let out another frustrated groan. His brother meant well, he knew that, but he just didn’t want to talk to him about the deeper implications of the questions until he had a much more concrete answer. Last Christmas had been filled with so much back and forth and answers that were exchanged and overturned at a dizzy rate and he just didn’t want to deal with that this year. He was supposed to have grown in a year and, as his stomach sunk in realization, he was almost right back to where he was a year ago: questioning everything in his life, wondering if he what he wanted was something that could be done and cohesively meshed together with what was needed. And of course, at his own hand, he was once again doing it all on his own with the bare minimum input from the select few people that he viewed as family. And Hank Voight.

~

“She’d kill me if she knew I was here,” he pointed out as he accepted the chipped mug filled with coffee that his boss was handing him. 

Voight, with his own mug that read ‘World’s #1 Grandpa’ in hand, grinned as he sat down in the chair opposite of him. “I got to say, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” Hank admitted before taking a sip of his drink. 

He took a sip of his coffee (it was surprisingly very well made) and shrugged. “I thought about not coming but…” He trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Both of them knew why he took a detour on his way to work, what his intentions were. Was there really a need to verbalize them? 

“How are your group meetings going?” Hank asked, completely changing the topic of the conversation that barely had the chance to begin, let alone form. “You’re still going right?”

He nodded in confirmation. “Y-yeah, every Thursday night unless we have a case.” He paused and smiled to himself before adding, “Pretty sure Erin will throw me out on my ass if I stopped going.” His comment brought a smile to Voight’s face as well. 

“Halstead, she should have thrown you out ages ago.” The comment was made in jest, but his insides froze and his body tensed up anyway because Hank was right, after all the shit he has put Erin through since he moved in with her, left, and then moved back in she sure as hell should have kicked him out of her life. 

“Right ah,” he stammered, struggling to find the words to say. Hank Voight was both a man he respected and a man he feared. He was Erin’s dad and his boss and try as he might, his mind was just unable to reconcile the two being the same person. 

“Relax Jay,” Hank said softly, clearly having noticed that his lighthearted comment had struck a sensitive chord in his detective. “She loves you and isn’t going anywhere. And, as much as I wish otherwise, neither are you.” This time, he fell for the ill-worded joke and offered his girl’s father a shy smile in response.

~ 

Lying on their bed, alone and heating up in the navy quarter-zip sweater he dressed up in for the day, he repeated Hank’s words in his head. 

She loves you and isn’t going anywhere. She loves you and isn’t going anywhere. She loves you and isn’t going anywhere. 

His own personal mantra was doing very little to calm the anxiety that was beginning to crawl out of his head and creep down his body. 

Blaming his nervousness on the silence, he quickly sat up and searched for something that would make it and the pesky voices in his head go away. 

Striding out of the bedroom and down the hallway, he caught glimpse of the mounted picture on the wall of the original Intelligence Unit: him, Erin, Voight, Al, Antonio, and Jules. He distinctively remembered Jin taken the photo and getting pissed off at him and Antonio for continuously messing up each take. He had been so sure of himself back then and he had to faintly wonder what happened to that version of himself. 

‘Life caught up to you,’ he surmised as his gaze skirted past the picture and landed on a much more recent one of him and Erin at a Blackhawks game. He smiled at the sight of it. Now that had been a good night. It was the first official date they had gone on after he moved back home. He had already started going to therapy and was in a much better headspace than he had been since Abby had shown up. Erin, who claimed to be “so proud” of him for going through something she knew he hated, bought the tickets and apparently begged Hank for the afternoon and the next day off. 

~

“We deserve this,” Erin stated, raising her ice cold beer bottle up and clinking it against his own. “Covering night patrol all next week is so worth it.”

He laughed at her acceptance of the bargain she had to strike to get them the rest of the day and the next off. “Speak for yourself,” he grinned. “I can think of a million other ways I’d rather spend my night than driving around in a freezing cold patrol car looking out for drunk idiots and violent criminals.” 

Her arm swiftly came up and her clenched fists pounded against his biceps. “Come on, we haven’t had a night out and a day off together in so long,” she complained. “And besides, think of all that overtime pay we’ll rake in. It’s like a win, win, win!” He laughed at her justifications and raised his glass once more. 

“Dinner, hockey, ridiculous amounts of sex, and overtime pay?” He cheekily listed. “I’ll drink to that.” 

“Uh huh, I’m sure you would,” Erin teased with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows, tilt of her head, and smirk on her face. They tapped their bottles together once more before downing the rest of their beer. 

~

His lips curled upwards; everything that night and the day that followed had been worth the week of night patrol the two of them had been conscripted to…especially the ridiculous amounts of mind-blowing sex they had. 

Lingering on the picture of them decked out in their Blackhawks gear, his arm wrapped around her shoulders while she leaned into his side, cups of overpriced beer in each of their hands for a second longer, he tore his eyes away from the wall altogether and fixated them on the dim glow at the end of the hallway.

Stepping into the living room, he made a beeline for the small, Bluetooth speaker and jabbed at the power button. Once the three little beeps signaled to him that it had been turned on, he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his dark washed jeans and cued up one of the many Christmas playlists Erin had forced him to save. 

Relief flooded him when Brenda Lee’s ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ killed the silence he had been desperate to escape from. Unfortunately for him, it did very little to distract him from the thousands of screaming voices in his head. 

Frustrated over his predicament and growing increasingly agitated that he was here on his own volition, he scanned the room in hopes of finding something else that he could focus his attention on. That’s all he really needed: to get lost in something of the past so that he would not lose himself to the stressors of the present. His eyes danced around the room, momentarily halting on the very real Christmas tree that was all lit up and decorated, but ultimately chose to continue waltzing on. They almost swept across the entire room before they partnered up with the very old, very faded framed photo that was barely visible from its tucked away position on one of the top shelves set up against the wall. 

Given everything that had happened this past year, he was surprised to see that the only known childhood photo of Erin and her brother Teddy was still on display. As of four and a half months ago, all lines of communication between the two half-siblings had been cut and all ties between them brutishly severed.

~ 

“How dare you!” Teddy screeched, his pointer finger with its nail painted black jabbing into Erin’s face. “She’s our mother!” 

“Teddy,” Erin’s voice quivered. “I-I had to. I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t what? Save her?” The younger man sneered, his widened eyes hardening with every inch his head tilted to the side. “She’s our mother and you’re the damn police! Of course you could have saved her!”

He was propped up on the arm of the couch, waiting for just the right moment to jump in and put Teddy in his place. He knew that it was mostly shock that was causing Teddy to act this way just as he knew that this was a situation Erin needed to handle herself with little to no interference from him. 

“Not from this Teddy,” Erin cried out in desperation. “She went in too far this time. I couldn’t save her from this and even if I wanted to, I was not going to put my job up as collateral.” 

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Teddy spoke slowly and calculated, his tone chilling the entire room. “Work is your family after all, who gives a damn about your real family when you have Hank Voight and him.” The blonde’s head jerked in his direction and he couldn’t help but notice just how alike Teddy was to his mother in this moment. Everything from his movements to his facial expressions and to his words screamed Bunny Fletcher. 

“Teddy, that’s not true. You have to know that’s not true. You’re my baby brother and I love you but…Teddy, I think she killed him. I couldn’t—”

“—Stop saying you couldn’t! I don’t want to hear it! In fact, from this moment forward, I never want to hear from you again!” 

Unable to remain on the sidelines anymore, he pushed himself off of the couch with a resound, “Hey!” in an attempt to get Erin’s brother’s attention. But, it was too late; her brother had stomped out of the room and the whole apartment shook from the force at which he slammed the door at. 

He cautiously watched Erin to see what her reaction would be. The whole week had been an exceptionally tough one and he feared this was just the icing on the cake for his girl who not only got caught up in an IA investigation, but was forced to deal with her psychotic mother’s shady lifestyle coming to light. 

Erin’s hazel eyes were filled with tears when she finally turned around to face him. “Jay, I couldn’t, I couldn’t give it all up for her. I just couldn’t,” she cried, collapsing into his waiting arms. 

Humming softly against the crown of her head, he gently rocked her back and forth in an attempt to calm her down. “I know babe, I know,” he murmured. “And deep down, I think Teddy knows that too.” 

“No he doesn’t,” she declared. “He’s never going to forgive me for this. I let our own mother get locked up in a federal prison!” 

Knowing that there were no words in the English language to bring some sense of reprieve to the guilt she was so clearly struggling to bear, he pressed a hard kiss to her head and continued to sway them back and forth until her tears subsided. 

~

Pulling out of the memory, he reflected on how difficult the weeks leading up to and following that day had been. Forced to face the consequences of shoving a loaded gun into the mouth of a pedophile, she had been suspended when Bunny came to her for help with dealing with her murdered boyfriend. Desperate to not anger the higher ups in the Ivory Tower any more than she already had and to just get her badge back so she could go back to the job she loved, she turned her mother away and attempted to wash her hands of the matter. He should have known that, with Bunny involved, it wasn’t going to be that simple and sure enough, the next day the Feds were knocking on their door and using Erin’s career as a bartering chip for her mother’s immunity. 

~

“The FBI Jay, that’s huge,” was what she said when he opened the floor up for discussion that night when he got home from work. “A part of me wants to go so bad but…”

“But it’s in New York,” he finished her sentence. When she didn’t say anything in response, he asked, “D-do you want to go?” 

Quietly, she sat down on the floor and patted her knees for Obi to come lie in her lap. Her answer to his question didn’t come until the puppy they had brought home two months earlier was comfortably curled up into a little ball in between her bent knees. 

“Yes, no, I don’t know,” she sighed. “It’s a phenomenal opportunity but…I did the whole pantsuit gig before and I barely lasted three months.” She lifted her gaze up from the still little black lab up to meet his own. “Besides, New York? I don’t think I could go there, leave you, leave Hank, leave the team. You guys…you’re all my family. I think about how hurt I was when you just left and I don’t want to put you guys through that. I won’t put you guys through that.” 

She looked back down at Obi. “I want to stay here with you.”

~

Her comment had set in motion everything that brought him to the state he was currently in: alone and about ready to lose his mind. 

She loves you and isn’t going anywhere. I want to stay here with you. Two sentences that stuck with him and were the only things keeping him from totally succumbing to the battle that raged on in his mind. 

She loves you and isn’t going anywhere. I want to stay here with you. 

He wanted her to stay with him too, but his wants were never the problem, it was whether or not he could act on those wants. 

Up until this point, he had. He fumbled through a conversation with Voight, brought up the idea to Will, asked Allie and Greg—his two best friends who knew him just as well as Erin did—what their opinions were, and mentioned his plans to both Gail and Danny and Rebecca and Steve. 

~

“She’s perfect for you Jay,” Allie smiled, rubbing her hand over his shoulders. She pulled him into a hug and he welcomed her embrace. Their history was long and complicated, but he wouldn’t trade it or her for the world. “I’m so incredibly happy for you both.” 

He tightened his hold on her and whispered his gratitude for her support into her ear, “Thanks Alls.” The smile that formed on her face pressed against his chest through the material of his flannel shirt. “We’ve come a long way me and you.”

“Ha, we certainly have,” she laughed, tilting her head backwards and looking up at his face. “And if I am not included in your wedding party and if you don’t name at least one of your kids after me I will be severely pissed off and think it was all for nothing.” 

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Want me to throw in naming you godmother as well?” 

“Damn right I do!” 

~

Coincidently, Mouse had the same requests and it was Will who told him what he had been really itching to hear. 

~

Snowflakes swirled around in the air as he trekked through the already covered path that lead to his mother’s grave. Narrowing in on his destination, he was surprised to see that, for the first time since their little tradition had been formed, his brother had arrived before him. 

“Hey man,” he greeting loudly to ensure that his voice carried over the howling wind. “Merry Christmas!”

“Jay!” Will turned around, a large, child-like grin on his face. “Merry Christmas brother!” 

Once the distance between them was closed, they briefly hugged then pulled apart and set their gaze on their mother’s tombstone. He was thankful to notice that his brother actually followed through on his promise to pick up the Christmas bouquet they brought to their mom each ear. To make it ‘fair’, the deal was that every other year they would switch off who picked up the flowers but Will usually always forgot when it was his turn, leaving him to come back later without his brother and freshly picked flowers in hand.

“Florist did a good job with the arrangement,” he mused, taking a sip of his spiked coffee as he silently counted the number of roses to make sure all of the ones they wanted were included. All five of them were there: two for him, two for Will, and one for their father that he reluctantly agreed should be included each year.

“Yeah, Brenda’s great,” Will acknowledged. “Cost an arm and a leg but it is what it is.” 

His face scrunched up in annoyance but he maintained his cool. They argued in the past about the cost of their mother’s Christmas flowers and there was no sense hashing out years old grievances now. 

“Before I forget, here you go,” Will’s hand stretched out towards him. “Fresh out of the safe.” The palm of his brother’s hand opened up and revealed the little, red leather ring box with the detailed gold trim around it. His own hand shook as he reached out to take the item he requested his brother grab for him the week before. 

A sense of sadness washed over him as his eyes flickered towards his mother’s headstone and read over her name, birthday, and the day she died. He wished more than anything that she was here and able to give him her ring in person. Nothing against Will, but he was not the person he truly wanted to receive the ring from. 

“Congrats on winning the race,” Will said lightly. “I can’t think of anyone better to receive the prize.” He wasn’t sure if Will was talking about Erin or him.

“Mom always said it wasn’t a race,” he responded, unable to recall how many times his mother told them that throughout their teenage years and up until the day she died. “But thanks.”

“She would have loved her,” Will’s tone sounded more serious than it ever had before. “Seriously. You picked a real good one Jay.” 

“You think so?” he asked in a rare moment of vulnerability. The rarity of the moment continued when Will draped his arm over his shoulders in a comforting manner. 

“I know so,” his older brother confirmed, giving his left shoulder a tight squeeze. “Erin is…Well, I bet Erin is exactly what Ma pictured in the daughter she always wanted but never got the chance to have. If she was still here and those two met, well, let’s just say I don’t think you’d be the favorite child anymore.” 

He scoffed and sent his elbow flying into his brother’s rib-cage with a few light chuckles. “Shut up.” 

Luckily for him, Will saw what the two words were disguised as and simply replied, “Anytime little brother, any time.”

The two of them milled around the gravesite, tossing jabs back and forth (all in good fun), until the cold weather became too much and the time on each of their watches reminded them of all the other obligations they committed to for the day. 

“Let me know how it goes, yeah?” Will made him promise as they walked back to their cars. “Though I have no doubt in my mind that she’ll say yes.” 

~

If it wasn’t for Will’s words that morning, he was fairly positive that he wouldn’t have made it as far as he had without having a complete nervous breakdown. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to marry Erin Lindsay; he had wanted to make her his wife the second her lips crashed onto his and he backed her up against the ugly yellow walls of his old apartment. The timing, he thought, was perfect. It wasn’t rushed—they had been together for almost three years now (not including those few months they spent together when she left for the Task Force)—and lived together for two. They were ready for this. 

He came back for her. He got better and she stood faithfully and resolutely by his side through the whole process. They got a dog. She turned down the FBI for him. She finally cut off the remaining ties linking her to her mother. He had Hank’s approval. His family loved her. He loved her. She loved him.

However, while she drove them home from Hank’s house, prattling on about how she ate too much, his mind went haywire and he began to second guess his decision that time was finally in their favor. 

Marriage was not something the two of them had extensively talked about. Sure, suggestive comments were made in passing and there was no doubt in either of their minds that they were committed to each other for the long haul, but that was about it. As evolved as Erin had become in the time he’d known her, parts of her still held on to the remnants of her commitment phobia and marriage brought a whole new level of commitment he was sure had the possibility of sending her running as far away from him as she could get. Implied comments and silly jokes about their future together did not hold even a candle to the very real commitment that was marriage. The second he launched into the proposal speech he had been rehearsing in his head for the last month, the whole dynamic of their relationship was going to change and the reality of that change fully sunk in on the drive home. 

Could he do this? Could he initiate a very big change to an already solid thing? He was comfortable and more than happy with the current state of his life. Was it worth the risk to gamble with that happiness? What if she said no? What if she didn’t want to make an official commitment to forever with him? What if the time wasn’t right for him to do this now? 

The questions fueled his anxiety and, when Erin asked him if he wanted to join her and Obi on a walk, prompted him to say no. With them gone, he reasoned, he’d have space to calm his mind and quell his nerves so that he wasn’t a total mess when he got down on one knee. He thought he needed the silence to rehearse his well-practiced speech one more time without any distractions just to ensure that it was exactly right. 

Oh, how wrong he had been. 

The silence and space only made everything worse…much, much worse. Paired together, the silence and space opened up the floor for his nerves to run loose and his mind to properly wander towards all of the ways this could go bad. 

Forcing himself to focus his mind once again on the song that was playing (some instrumental piece that sounded like ‘O Holy Night’), he reached over and grabbed the first bottle of liquor he was able to get his hands on and took a long swig straight from the bottle, relishing in the sweet taste of bourbon that sloshed down his throat. 

He was being an idiot. He had nothing to fear, deep down he knew that. Erin loved him and everyone was right, she would say yes.

“Stop letting your fucked up head get the best of you,” he ordered himself, taking one more sip of the bottle of bourbon. Setting the bottle down, he took in two deep breathes to calm himself and then strode out of the living room and back towards their bedroom with a purpose. Erin was going to be back from her walk with Obi any minute now and he was not going to not be ready for her when she did. 

Opening up his side of the closet, he quickly shoved aside all of his clothes until his fingers grazed the plastic covered green service uniform that very rarely ever saw the light of day. Slipping his hand under the plastic wrap, he felt around until his fingers slipped into the pocket and latched around the little red box Will had given him that morning. It was probably dumb of him to hide the ring inside his old Rangers uniform when it was going to be presented to Erin less than twenty-four hours later, but he didn’t want to take any chances that she might accidently come across it. 

Pulling the ring out, he stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans and meandered back out to the living room and set himself up in front of the tree they had gone and picked out together the first weekend in December. 

~

“I still don’t get why we can’t just get our tree from the Boy Scouts or something like normal people,” Erin complained from the driver’s seat. “Do you even know how to cut down a tree?” 

Rolling his eyes and tightening his grip on the handle above his head, he repeated the same phrase he had given her every time she asked this question. “Yes Er, I do.” Then, for good measure, he added, “Mom took Will and I all the time to cut down our tree and Will, being the overgrown baby that he is, would never go near the ax so I always got stuck chopping the tree down.” 

He felt her eyes shift over to him in curiosity. This had been the first time he mentioned this particular family tradition. 

“You should have seen me at ten years old trying to swing the ax,” he continued with a laugh. “Took me forever to get the damn tree to fall.” He smiled faintly at the memory of the first tree he cut down himself. 

She laughed with him and said, “I’m sure that was a sight to see.” Then, her tone got more serious as she stated, “You better not take forever to cut down our tree. It’s too damn cold out and I don’t want to wait around while you try and play Paul Bunyan.” 

Luckily for her, they found their perfect tree in no time and it took him only a couple of swings to knock it to the ground. 

“See, well worth the trip,” he told her later that night after they hung up the last ornament. They each took a step back and looked over the tall and full Christmas tree that was now dazzling with white lights and ornaments.

“Yeah, I have to say it was,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her body against his own. “The tree looks great and smells even better. Definitely a step up from last year.” 

Taking her jab about the little fake tree that had come to mean so much to them and was currently sitting in its box waiting to be set up in their bedroom, he grinned down at her. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he teased. “Are you actually agreeing with me for once?” 

“Ugh, shut up,” she groaned, the sparkle in her eye contradicting her words. His grin widened and he leaned down to kiss her. 

“Or do that,” she mumbled against his lips, tugging on his shirt to get him to shift their bodies to the ground. 

~

Memories of that night came to the forefront of his mind as his knee dropped down to the spot he had gently laid her back on. 

“Will you marry me?” he practiced, wanting to get used to saying the words so that when he asked her, the words would come out as clearly as possible. “Will you marry me? Will you—”

The rest of the question vanished from his lips at the sound of the front door being unlocked. 

“Obi!” he faintly heard Erin giggle. “Calm down boy, we’ll be inside in just a second. Stop scratching at the door!” 

Barely a second after she finished speaking to their energetic dog, the door to the apartment was flung open and Obi bounded into the living room, his leash flying wildly in the air around him. The dog immediately spotted him on the floor, galloped towards him, and nearly knocked the ring box out of his hand as he jumped into his arms. 

“Hey boy!” he greeted while the puppy licked all over his face. “Did you have a good walk? Yeah?” He scratched at the dogs ears, acutely aware that Erin had joined them into the room and was taking in the sight of him on one knee. He knew she was going to think nothing of it with Obi squirming around in his lap. 

“He had a great walk,” she informed him, sitting down on the couch across from him. “He did his business, played in the snow, and nearly took my arm out chasing two squirrels across the parking lot!” Her tone was light and playful, signaling that she wasn’t too upset by that last part. 

Latching onto both of Obi’s ears, he scratched them lovingly. “Are those damn squirrels still terrorizing you buddy? Huh? One of these days you’ll get them, I promise.”

“Don’t tell him that!” Erin reprimanded. “Our dog is not going to be a squirrel hunter!” 

Setting the dog down and reaching behind him to grab the bone they had gotten him for Christmas, he said, “Well, I know that and you know that, but he doesn’t know that!” He threw the bone across the room and watched the dog skid past it and double back around to lap it up and run off to his dog bed in the kitchen with it clamped between his jaws.

“He’s a nut,” Erin chuckled. “I miss when he was the sweet, calm puppy who wanted to do nothing more than sleep in my arms all day.” 

“Haha, yeah,” he responded, his heartrate starting to pick up. Any moment now, she would notice that he was still on one knee and that there was a little red box lying next to him on the floor. 

He watched as her eyes scanned over him and moved back and forth between him and the box.

“J-Jay, wha-what’s going on? What’s that?” She pointed to the box on the floor. 

‘It’s now or never,’ he thought as he leaned over to pick up the box. With his stomach somersaulting at a rapid pace, he flipped the box open and forced himself to ignore the gasp that fell from her lips. 

“Yes!” She blurted out before he could even begin his rehearsed speech. “Yes!” 

“You didn’t even let me ask you the question,” he pouted, too relieved and elated to even care. Speech be damned, Erin wanted to be his wife! 

She moved from the couch and positioned herself so that she was sitting on his bent knee and her arms were wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Fine, ask me now,” she beamed. “Answer will still be the same, I promise.” 

All of his fears and anxiety evaporated when he looked from the shiny gold locket that rested against her chest up into her hazel eyes and saw that they were drowning with love for him. 

“Erin Lindsay,” he spoke softly, the speech he rehearsed a thousand times suddenly failing to come to mind and forcing him to improvise. “I love you. I love you more than you can ever imagine and I know I am never going to stop loving you. You’re my partner and my best friend and the one person in the world who I feel like I can completely depend on to have my back in any kind of situation. I honestly cannot imagine a life without you and so, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?” 

His words were a far cry from what he originally planned. He was supposed to include something about how happy she made him, about how she inspired him to be a better version of himself every day, about how much respect he had for her and her compassion for others. He meant to tell her that even in the face of great difficulties—like what happened following Nadia’s death and his issues with his PTSD and her getting suspended from her job without pay—he would always uphold his end of their promise and always have her back. He intended to include something about how she was a great mother to Obi and that she’d make an even better mother to their kid just to follow with a comment about how he’d be more than okay if she didn’t want kids because, at the end of the day, he just wanted her. No sense of completely scaring her off with talk about potentially having kids in the middle of a marriage proposal he had reasoned. There was so much more he had planned to say and he could have kicked himself for forgetting his speech if she wasn’t already locking her lips to his own and kissing him with more love and passion than she ever had before.

Instinctively, he pushed his mother’s ring down on her finger before cupping both of his hands around her cheeks. 

“I’ll marry you, yes,” she whispered against his lips, droplets of tears leaking from her eyes and splashing onto his cheeks. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” he grinned, pulling away from her and inching his arms downwards so that they rested underneath her red sweater just above her waist. 

“Clearly,” she chuckled, holding her left hand up between them so that the engagement ring shined in his eyes. “It’s beautiful.” 

Later, he’d tell her the story behind the ring and how his mother would be so happy that she was the one to receive it. Now that she had said yes, all of his anxiety-induced doubts and fears seemed ridiculous and he felt like he could think straight again. Of course his mother would have loved her and of course the timing was absolutely perfect for them. In the year that had passed, they had grown more as people and as a couple than they had in all the years prior. They were ready for this, ready to make this commitment. 

“Best Christmas present I’ve ever received,” she continued, kissing the underside of his jaw. 

“The ring or me?” He joked, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of her lips against his skin. 

Detaching herself from him, she held her hand up and inspected the ring some more in mock consideration. “You, definitely you,” she concluded, looking up from the ring to his eyes. “Don’t you remember what I said last year? All I want for Christmas is you.” 

He laughed and, in a single, swift motion, placed her body onto the ground and hovered over her. 

“I think that is the single, most cheesiest thing you have ever said to me,” he stated, brushing a loose strand of hair from her eyes. “But yes, I did remember. That’s why I wanted to propose to you today. Merry Christmas Er.” 

“Merry Christmas Jay,” she rasped, pressing her body upwards against his own, promptly putting an end to the discussion.

Neither of them minded though; they had the rest of their lives to finish their conversation. For now, with the soft sounds of Christmas music filling up the room and the glittering lights of their Christmas tree above them, they just wanted to spend the rest of their holiday getting lost in their love for each other. 

The End.


End file.
